


A Proper Dragonrider

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: The Weyrleaders of High Reaches [1]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, Mirrors (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pern, Angst, Dragons, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:10:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ben returns to High Reaches to his as a candidate for impression for his birth mother's dragon's newest clutch, everyone's certain he'll impress a bronze like his father before him. But soon Ben begins to realize that since the death of his father, the former Weyrleader, something in the Weyr isn't as it should be....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eirenical (chibi1723)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi1723/gifts).



> No knowledge of fandoms necessary.
> 
> Re-reading the Pern books of my childhood made me realize how much lost potential there was for dragonrider slash. Decided I needed to remedy this. Then sufficient plot happened that I figured I could even throw it in the Pern tag without feeling too embarrassed.
> 
> Sorry Pern purists - it's difficult to Pern AU with modern fandoms and still adhere to dragonrider naming conventions. I've tried to keep fairly true to the canon world otherwise.

Lawrence, called Larry to most, had laid awake for what seemed like hours before his mother finally roused him, curled in his sleeping furs. Unable to go back to sleep, he’d watched the sky slowly change from black to the deepest blue through the tiny crack in curtains that hung in front of the small niche he’d slept in since he was very young. There were several like it along the back of the weyr that they lived in, which had been home to the various weyrbrats his mother had fostered over the years. If Larry had been a dragonrider’s son, he’d have been living commonwith the other children in the weyr for years. But there were advantages to being the son of the Headwoman of High Reaches, to Larry, the privacy and sense of home was worth having to get up at the crack of dawn to work with his mother. 

One of the reasons for his lack of sleep was that this was the last night he’d sleep in his mother’s Weyr. High Reaches current Weyrwoman’s dragon, Tannath had clutched, and at 13 years old Larry was more than eligible to be a candidate. The perfect age for a dragon of his own. 

“Hurry into your things, Lawrence,” Alice murmured softly, careful not to wake her weyrmate in the next room. “We’ll need a lot of klah this morning.”

Larry held back a laugh. High Reaches had fought a full Fall yesterday without a single thread scored rider, and wine had flowed freely late into the night in celebration. He quickly pulled on clothes in the chill air and laced up his boots, following his mother past the green dragon that slept curled at the mouth of the weyr and down the staircase that led into the bowl. Larry resisted the urge to stroke Jazzanth affectionately in passing; she’d had a long day flaming thread.

The weyr they lived in was high, up near the edge of the bowl, an area usually reserved for very young riders or riders who wanted their privacy. Jazzanth’s rider, S’phia, was the latter. It was uncommon for women to ride fighting dragons; S’phia had been a candidate when Tannath had hatched, many turns before Larry had been born. A lot of people thought women shouldn’t be allowed to fight at all. But a dragon’s rider was the dragon’s choice, and Jazzanth had wanted S’phia, the same as Larry’s mother did, or so he’d heard his mother’s murmured reassurance to her lover time and time again. Larry didn’t care what anyone thought. S’phia was the bravest rider he knew, and he couldn’t think of a single dragon who, with her speed and agility in the air, was better at fighting thread than Jazzanth.

“Lawrence.” Larry’s mother’s voice stirred him from his thoughts as they entered the weyr’s main dining cavern. “Stoke the fire. Get new water boiling for klah.”

“Do you have to call me Lawrence? It sounds so weird.”

The smile his mother gave him was warm and proud. “You need to get used to it. You have a proper dragonrider’s name. When you Impress you’ll be L’rence.”

Larry knew that it wasn’t guaranteed that every child born in the weyr would impress, but he’d always shared his mother certainty. He came from a long line of dragonriders, both on his mother’s side and on the side of the brown rider who had fathered him. He could easily hear Jazzanth when she spoke to him. If he didn’t Impress at this hatching, he certainly would at the next.

He built the fire in the dining cavern’s hearth to a respectable size, and filled the cauldron that hung over it with water and a steeping bag of klah. Soon sleepy - and probably hung over - dragonriders would be able to help themselves from it as they started the day.

He joined his mother in the kitchen where she was directing the kitchen staff as they prepared for breakfast. “If I’ll be L’rence, what will Ben be?”

Alice chuckled, shaking her head. “Ben will be however he chooses to hyphenate. B’jamin, I suppose. At least Dalia named Daniel more sensibly.” She lifted the door to one of the stone ovens to check the tray of sweet rolls inside, then glanced back at her son. “Are you looking forward to seeing them again?”

Larry nodded much more calmly than the thrill of excitement that had been dancing in the pit of his stomach for days. The Werywoman’s two young sons had been a constant of his young life; with both of their parents running the weyr, Alice had ended up as much a mother to them as Dalia. But when Dalia’s Weyrmate had died during a Fall four years ago the grief stricken Weyrwoman had fostered both the boys out to Benden, and Larry had suffered the loss of not only of a good Weyrleader, but of his best friend.

Through Ben’s letters, he’d shared in his friends adventures as he was fostered at various Holds and Weyrs in Pern, and they’d seen each other occasionally at Gathers, but he still missed Ben desperately. Now, with Ben also of age to Impress, Dalia had finally sent for her sons to come home.

“What time do you think the candidates will come in?” He asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

If Alice knew better, she didn’t say anything. “A little before lunch, I heard. If you finish early this morning I’m sure you’ll have time to meet them. Now, go help Cara get the other brats out of bed, you have chores to do.”

The morning flew by, and before and Larry knew it he was standing on the grass at the edge of the hatching grounds, eyes shielded against the sun as he watched three dragons appear from between in the air above the weyr. Two blues and a brown circled down to land neatly in the bowl of the Weyr, their riders sliding down their backs before helping the candidates they’d found on search.

Ben slid off the brown without help, well used to riding dragonback. He’d grown much taller in the turn since Larry had last seen him, and unlike Larry, filled out his height. He’d spent the past year at the sunny Ista weyr, as evidenced by the sunbleached streaks in his blond hair and the deep bronze to his skin. Though he was only a year older than Larry, he suddenly seemed far more mature, and Larry found himself hanging back of the crowd that stood to meet them. The only way Larry had grown was taller, and with his pale freckled skin and unruly red hair to match, he suddenly felt gangly and out of place.

Ben pulled his younger brother down from the dragon and helped the rider unleash their packs before finally turning towards the crowd of weyrfolk. He met Dalia with a warm smile and a handshake, though his eyes still scanned the crowd around him. Finally his blue eyes locked with Larry’s, and his smile widened into a grin as he pushed through the crowd and pulled the other candidate into his arms. “Shards, weyrbrother! It’s been far too long.”

Ben’s voice had changed too, now a warm, throaty baritone, but the familiarity to his words helped Larry relax. He returned the embrace, then pulled back to look at him, hands still resting on Ben’s broad shoulders. “So it seems! Look at you! What have they been feeding you at Ista? I’m so jealous of your tan!”

Ben laughed, reaching up to ruffle his red hair. “When we both have our dragons, I’ll take you there.”

***

Ben spent the afternoon helping move the new candidates into the candidate’s barracks, and getting settled himself. His younger brother had happily taken over his old alcove in headwoman Alice’s weyr, while Larry moved down with him. They’d even managed to snag bed rolls next to each other, and the feeling of being home, finally home, back with his best friend in the caverns he knew so well was so good that he couldn’t stop from smiling. The weyrlingmaster, an older brown rider named M’ran, even took them out to the hatching grounds before dinner, letting them move among the eggs under Tannath’s watchful eyes. Forty candidates for a clutch of 19 eggs was good odds. There was no queen egg this time, but that wasn’t unusual; there were little more than 15 years left in the Turn, and the weyrs were at already at full strength. The Queens would mate less as the need for new dragons to fight thread also lessened.

Ben watched Larry move ahead of him between the eggs, his friend’s slow gait almost casual compared to the excitement of many of the other candidates. He moved to catch up, letting his hand rest lightly on the top of the egg Larry stood beside. “Do you think this is a bronze?”

Larry glanced up at him, the expression on his face unreadable for a moment before he answered. “Could be. You want a bronze?”

“Everyone wants a bronze,” Ben replied automatically. A bronze dragon meant strength, meant the opportunity for leadership. 

“And realistically, three quarters of us won’t get one,” Larry said with a shrug. He moved on to the next egg before looking back at Ben again. “We need blues and browns and greens as much as we need bronzes.”

Ben thought of Larry’s mother’s weyrmate with as much affection as he did his foster mother. “Of course we do,” he agreed, “but you and I are weyrbred. We’re more likely to get a bronze.”

“Perhaps,” Larry agreed amicably, starting toward the edge of the hatching grounds as M’ran called for the candidates. “Would you be disappointed if you didn’t?”

It was the first time anyone had asked him that question. Even though weyrs didn’t keep to traditional family structures, he was still known as the firstborn son of weyrleaders Dalia and C’son, and everyone who’d talked to him about the upcoming hatching acted as though the bronze was a sure thing. Remembering his father’s death still stung, and Ben swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I want to be a bronze rider like my father.”

Larry gave him a soft smile as they rejoined the rest of the candidates. “You’d make a good bronze rider.” 

The topic came up again as they finished dinner, seated with a number of the Searched candidates clustered around the end of one of the long tables in the dining room. Two of the older candidates were younger sons of major Lord Holders, who were both convinced that they’d been Searched to come find their fortune as future leaders of wing and weyr.

“We can’t all ride bronzes,” another weyrbrat named Catan pointed out sensibly. “What are you going to do if you impress a blue? Send it back? You know you’re going to love your dragon no matter what color it is. ”

“I guess so.” Jaycob, the older of the two lord holder’s sons, picked a piece of fruit from between his teeth. “I’m fine with anything, really. As long as it’s not a green.”

Beside him, Ben could feel Larry stiffen. Ben spoke before his friend could. “I hope you’re not insinuating that there’s something wrong with green dragons.”

“Not the dragons. Just don’t know why a real man would want to ride one. Green dragons are randy bitches.”

“You mean green riders are randy bitches,” his companion snorted.

“When a dragon rises to mate, it has nothing to do with what her rider likes or doesn’t like, Rubin,” Ben shot back with a frown. “That’s the first thing you’re going to have to learn about living in a weyr. Because even if you don’t ride a green? One day your dragon’s going to fly one, and then you’re going to be the randy bitch.”

“At least I won’t be taking it up the butt.” Rubin rolled his eyes, standing to clear his plate. “Now I know why dad says that most dragonriders are queer. Sluts.”

Larry twisted suddenly on his stool, one leg connecting with Rubin’s shins as he tried to pass, making the older boy stumble. Rubin swore as he spun around, throwing a punch that Larry just barely ducked away from. 

Ben managed to get between them before things could escalate and urging Rubin to step back. “Hey – enough! Every dragonrider gets respect. You’re in a Weyr, Rubin, remember that! Larry – “

“My weyrmom rides green. If he’s going to talk badly of green riders he’ll have to answer to me!“

Ben had never seen his gentle friend so confrontational, and for a moment it stunned him. “I’m sure Rubin’s sorry. Right?”

The other candidates eyes narrowed, but he gave a sharp nod. “Sure. Sorry.”

Ben watched Larry’s generous lips thin, that he nodded as well. “Thanks. Likewise.” Then he turned before Ben could stop him, and headed from the dining hall.

In the days to come, the candidates would have their days full - of training, chores, and preparing for the hatching. But for tonight, for their first day of candidacy, M’ran let them have their freedom of the weyr. Ben found Larry where he thought he would: on the ledge outside S’phia’s weyr, leaning against Jazzanth’s side. Ben inclined his head respectfully towards the Dragon, then turned his attention towards his friend. “Hey. Can I join you?”

Larry let out a long breath, then nodded, patting the ledge beside him and scooting over to give him more room. “Sorry I got so - sorry about dinner, I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”

Ben shook his head. “They just haven’t been around the weyr long enough to know better. Picking a fight with them wouldn’t be worth the trouble it would get you in.”

“I know. But… even people in the weyr some still think the way they do.” Larry’s mouth twisted, and Ben could hear a tightness in his voice. “You haven’t seen the bronze riders that fight to fly Jazzanth just because S’phia’s a woman. She hates it. Mom hates it - God, I hate it too, thank the Sisters Jazzanth doesn’t rise as much as she did when she was young. And half the blue and brown riders that fly greens – you haven’t seen the way they look down their noses at the same green riders they’ve gone to bed with!”

Jazzanth moved her muzzle to rest against Larry’s leg, obviously trying to comfort him, and Ben reached out as well to let his hand rest gently on Larry’s forearm. He could feel his friend nearly vibrating with rage, and with good reason. It was true, what he said. He’d even heard his mother’s weyrmate H’dan, High Reaches own weyrleader, say things to that effect… And he wasn’t the only one. “I don’t think you need to worry,” he started carefully. “I mean, your father was a brown rider. A wingsecond. You’re not going to impress a green.”

“Maybe I will. Maybe I want to.” Larry pulled his arm from Ben’s touch and turned to meet his gaze, the pupils of his blue eyes blown wide in the dim light of the setting sun. “What will you think of me then?”

Ben’s answer came without needing a second of consideration. “You’ll still be my best friend. Is that really what you’re worried about? You’re going to be an amazing dragonrider. No matter what color you ride.”

Larry relaxed a little, leaning back against Jazzanth’s side and reaching out to scratch one of her eye ridges affectionately. “Thanks,” he said, though he didn’t sound as reassured as Ben wanted him to be.

He watched Larry for a long moment before daring to speak again. “You really think you’re going to impress a green?”

“It feels right.” Larry’s voice was hardly louder than a murmur, and he didn’t look up.

“Then if anyone looks down their nose at you I’ll… I’ll punch them in it!”

Larry glanced up at that, the corners of his mouth twitching towards a smile. “I thought that wasn’t worth the trouble you’d get in.”

“Would be for you. No one looks down on my weyrbrother. I promise. But you gotta do the same for me, okay?”

Larry chuckled and leaned into him, more relaxed now. “You’ll get a bronze. I know you will.”

“For any reason, then. We stick together.”

“Promise,” Larry replied. He smiled as he looked out across the bowl of the weyr. “It’s good to have you home.”

***

They didn’t talk about it again before the hatching. When the other candidates would boast about their certainty of impressing bronzes Ben would make sure to catch Larry’s eye, but his friend didn’t seem as upset about it as he had been the first night. As the eggs on the hatching ground hardened, it was hard to feel anything but excited. The candidates were taken to visit the eggs daily, and sometimes, as Ben let his fingers trail over the smooth shells, he thought he could almost hear something at the back of his mind, like the sleeping warmth of the Dragon that would soon be his companion. By the time of the humming of the dragons in the weyr heralded the impending hatching, Ben felt as if he’d been waiting forever.

Larry caught the sleeve of his white candidate robe as they made their way towards the hatching grounds with the others. His voice had a hint of the old nervousness “You still remember your promise?”

“Of course. Nose punches all around. You too, right?”

Larry nodded, and smiled more easily. “Promise. Ben… thanks.”

The murmur of the crowd gathered around the hatching grounds was almost as loud as the dragons hum, and for a moment Ben felt nervous again. What if he didn’t impress after all? Everyone was so certain - his mother, the Weyrleader, everyone he’d met and fostered under in his time away from High Reaches… But what if they were wrong? What if he wasn’t his father’s son after all?

There was already talk of this clutch being a disappointment. Tannath was currently High Reaches’ only Queen, and for the second time since his father’s death, H’dan’s Zankath had flown Tannath to a small clutch with no queen egg. And while Ben was secretly pleased that no one could fill his father’s shoes, it wasn’t the best note on which to start the hatching.

On the sands, several eggs were rocking violently, and Ben reached out to catch Larry’s hand in his own, holding tight. If a bronze hatched first, it would be good luck. If it was his bronze…

A sudden crack stilled his thoughts, and the murmurs from the watching crowd died to silence. One egg near the edge of the grounds split into pieces, and a small green Dragon struggled to free herself, crying out as she entered the world. For a moment, none of the candidates moved. Then Larry pulled his hand from Ben’s and started towards the little hatchling.

A green. Ben felt his stomach sink. But the expression on his friend’s face was so in awe, so… so in love that he couldn’t help but smile. He watched Larry sink to his knees, brushing a shard of the green dragon’s shell from her face as he reached up to stroke her eye ridge. The connection between them was almost tangible, and Ben felt a weird flare of jealousy that something else could bring his weyrbrother so much joy.

“Her name’s Fionnth!” He called out, laughing as the hatchling affectionately butted his shoulder with her head. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll feed you. I’ll take care of you. You’re so perfect...”

Ben could barely hear him over the cheer of the crowd and the dragons’ joyous song, which only got louder as another egg cracked. Soon he’d lost track of his friend in the crowd of candidates and newly hatched dragons. Ben felt his stomach twist in worry. Suddenly the thought of waiting for another clutch was unbearable. He’d finally been able to return to High Reaches. What if he couldn’t be a weyrling with Larry? What if he was left alone while Larry and Fionnth learned to fly, learned to fight thread…

_Why would you be alone?_

“Because Larry has Fionnth now, and I – “

_Don’t you have me?_

With a shock, Ben realized that the little bronze lumbering past the candidates in front of him was looking for him. He felt joy swell inside him, a love and completion unlike anything he’d ever known. He pushed past the other candidates, breath catching as he wrapped his arms around the dragon. Nothing he’d been told had even touched on how amazing it felt, the rush of love-devotion-completion that filled him. “You…”

_I’m Santh. I’m here. I’ll always be with you._

He stroked trembling hands over Santh’s face and neck, over his tender hatchling skin and delicate wings, lost in the overwhelming emotion he felt and the perfect beauty of Santh’s jeweled eyes. His dragon, as he was Santh’s, forever. “Always, Santh. Always.”

***

Later, after Santh was fed and washed and fed again until he was so full Ben was certain his new companion was going to burst, he finally saw Larry and Fionnth again. L’rence now, Ben corrected himself. God, how the hell was he going to shorten his name? Larry’s little green hatchling was stretched out on the ledge of one of the ground-level weyrs that was used by hatchlings and new dragonriders until their dragons were old enough to fly in a fighting wing and claim a permanent weyr. Larry was leaning back against her chest, the way and had often seen him sit with Jazzanth, his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips. He sat up as Ben approached, patting Fionnth apologetically when she stirred awake with him. Then he stood, jogging down the few steps that led to the ledge. “Hey, mister bronze rider.”

“Hey yourself.” Ben returned his friend’s wide smile. If any of his previous nervousness remained, there was no trace that now. He nodded towards Fionnth. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s perfect,” Larry agreed, a warmth in his voice that Ben knew well from the love in his own heart for Santh. 

“This is Santh,” he introduced, stroking a hand down the back of Santh’s neck. “Mind if we share your ledge?”

“We saved room for you,” Larry replied, starting back up the steps. “Gotta look out for each other, right? Figured we could weyr together here too, if you want?”

“I was counting on it,” Ben replied, curling up against Santh as he stretched out in the sun. He gave his weyrbrother a warm smile before closing his eyes. Everything was perfect.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Body aching and clothes reeking of sulfur, Larry sighed as he watched his dragon dive into the lake in the middle of the Weyr’s bowl with far more energy than he thought should be possible after fighting fall.

 _I hate smelling bad,_ Fionnth said reproachfully in his mind. _You should, too._

I’ll bath once you’re clean, Larry thought back at her. At least she’d let him off first. The last time they’d flown fall she’d gone straight into the lake and taken him with her, riding straps, leathers and all.

 _Don’t complain,_ she grumped back at him, following his thoughts. _It got everything cleaned. And not stinky._

Despite her grumbles, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for her. Of course, love. 

He left her to swim and headed back towards the supply cave at the side of the beach, stripping off his leathers as he did. Fionnth had been unusually testy over the past few days; it was easiest just to agree with her. He piled their gear neatly at one side of the cave, tossing his riding leathers on top of it and picking up a bucket of cleansing sand. He passed Ben – B’min to the others, but always Ben to him - on his way in, Santh flopping inelegantly into the lake as well.

“He thought Fionnth had a good idea,” Ben explained with a grin. “How are you guys holding up?”

“We flew first and third rotation,” Larry replied proudly. They were only flying with the weyrlings’ wing, which fought thread near the ground with the Queens, but lasting through a double rotation was quite a feat for greens, who were built for speed and agility over endurance. Larry was almost 16, so soon they’d be able to join a real fighting wing. They’d never last through a full Fall like Santh – or even a brown dragon – could, but if he and Fionnth could set themselves apart, perhaps they could have their pick of wings to join. “How’s Santh enjoying being in a real wing?”

“Not quite as much as the leading his old one. J’hon is doing okay as weyrling wing leader?” 

When Ben had graduated to real fighting wing, he promoted the younger of his two wing seconds to wing leader. J’hon was a year younger than Larry, and had been a Harper apprentice before he’d been searched, had been barely old enough to impress. Most people thought him the most airheaded bronze rider to ever Impress, but once astride his bronze, Amanth, he was one of the best fighters from their hatching. Larry liked him. “He’s making a great wing leader. Like a duck to water.”

“Good.” Ben dumped his things and grabbing some sense as well. “Shards, I ache everywhere.”

“I’m sure your little healer apprentice friend and her magic fingers will help with that later.” Larry quirked an eyebrow at him suggestively as they made their way back to the lake.

“Amy?” Ben laughed, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed pink. 

“She’s sweet on you.” It was a bit of an understatement. It seemed like all the girls were sweet on Ben. Larry couldn’t quite figure out why his friend continued to be reluctant about bedding women when he could have his choice of half the maids in the weyr. “You should take advantage of that.”

“Yeah, maybe. She’s okay. I just don’t want to be one of _those_ bronze riders, you know?”

“That’s not what you said that girl at the Tillek Gather last month.”

“Stop that!” Ben elbowed him in the ribs, and chuckling, they waded into the lake to meet their exuberantly dripping dragons.

Afterward, both dragons arranged themselves to dry in the sun in front of their weyr – on a ledge that had become far too small for the both of them some time ago. Larry frowned as he edged around Fionnth’s bulk. “I guess I should really think about getting a real weyr,” he mused as he tucked away her fighting straps. He stretched, wincing as his muscles protested the movement.

“They’re definitely not getting any smaller,” Ben agreed, moving behind him and reaching up to work his fingers into the knot on his shoulder with practiced ease. “Santh and I have a few empty places to go look at, but… it’s kind of nice being a ground-level. You have any plans?” 

Did he have plans. His living situation was one thing that Larry had been trying very hard not to think about. Fionnth was reaching maturity, which meant that it was only a matter of time before she rose to mate. It didn’t frighten him anymore – S’phia had made sure to connect him with a number of green riders friends to make sure he was prepared - but it still meant change. He thought enviously of D’nim’s green Tireth, who exclusively flew his weyrmate S’ton’s brown dragon. But they were the exception to Weyr life rather than the rule.

“Fionnth will fly soon,” he blurted, and felt Ben’s fingers fall away from his back. But Ben had to know that. Everyone knew. Two of the other greens from their hatching had already flown their first mating flights. Larry felt his stomach flip, and tried not to think about the looks he’d caught a few of the other riders giving him. One of the blue riders - one with a “reputation”, according to D’nim - had even outright propositioned him. He hadn’t told Ben.

“Don’t worry about it until after, then.” Ben moved to face him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. “Hey. It’ll be okay. You know I’ve got your back, Lar.”

Larry nodded, swallowing down his nervousness and forcing a smile he didn’t feel. “I know. I’ll be okay. You should go see your healer. I’m going to take over the bath before Fionnth disowns me for stinking up the place.”

Ben chuckled, and nodded. “You sure you don’t want to come with me? Amy has a friend who thinks you’re pretty cute, you know. It might make you feel better about Fionnth.”

The idea of sleeping with Amy’s “friend” only made Larry feel repulsion. He’d learned from D’nim that it was far more common than he’d thought for men like him to be drawn to Weyr, where their preferences wouldn’t be as scrutinized as they would in a normal Hold. Still, he wasn’t about to admit that to Ben. He made himself keep smiling. “I think I’m too nervous to perform. Thanks, though. You go. I’ll nap with Fionnth.”

Thankfully Ben didn’t press, heading out of the weyr and leaving Larry to his thoughts as he went into the small bathing room and sunk into the heated water.

Why didn’t he just find a partner? D’nim had hinted that he’d have no trouble setting him up with a lover far kinder than the blue who had been pursuing him. He’d said it would make Fionnth’s flight easier if he’d already had experience. But it didn’t sit right.

After scrubbing the smell of Firestone and char from his skin, Larry stood to lean back against the wall, letting the incoming stream of warm water cascade over his body. Part of what made him so certain that Fionnth was near mating was the fact that he’d been ridiculously horny for what seemed like days. He curled a hand around his half hard cock with a sigh of relief, biting down at his bottom lip and stroking himself slowly.

Even if he hadn’t taken a partner, there were things that a green rider could do to prepare for his dragon’s passion. The small bottle of sweet oil he’d brought with him into the bathing room was one of the nicest, he thought. He braced one foot on the edge of the bath before pouring some over two fingers, then worked them carefully up inside himself with what was becoming practiced ease. The hot, shivering stretch of penetration had been strange at first, but he’d quickly grown to enjoy it, especially when paired with the smooth, curved toy that was hidden safely in his room. It was harder to replicate with his fingers, but if he crooked them just right he could brush up against a firm point inside him that sent a burst of pleasure through him far more intense than just jerking off. With Fionnth as worked up as she’d been lately he needed that intensity.

His thoughts moved to his weyrbrother all too easily. Scorch it! Why the hell did Ben have to grow up to be so damn good looking? He’d long ago given up on trying to stop himself from thinking about Ben while he did this. He didn’t only think about Ben, of course. There were plenty of good looking riders in the weyr, men who rode all colors of dragon. But Ben was definitely the nicest to think about. Ben’s sandy blond hair and blue eyes, the strength in his wide shoulders. The way his lips moved when he talked and smiled, and shards, that voice! Larry came far too quickly, biting back a shout as his body tensed, his cock pulsing in his fingers as he spent himself.

It was a guilty pleasure, he thought as he cleaned himself up and pulled on new clothes to go sit with Fionnth in the sun. But it was harmless. Santh would never have any interest in flying Fionnth. He could dream all he wanted.

***

Larry awoke the next morning to the familiar pull of desire. He slipped a hand into his sleep pants to stroke himself lazily as he shook off the dregs of sleep. There was no need to be up early on the day after a Fall. Every rider would be accorded a free morning to rest and recover and take care of their dragon.

He retrieved the bottle of oil and the lovely little curved toy while listening for the sound of his weyrbrother. Ben had turned in earlier and he had the night before; Santh was an early riser regardless of their schedule and usually Ben woke when he did. Larry couldn’t hear anything, so he assumed that Ben was either gone or still asleep. Either way, Fionnth was fast asleep, and he had plenty of time to enjoy himself.

It felt good, to work the oiled toy up inside him. He was starving, too, but not nearly enough to pull his attention from this. Toes curling against the mattress, he worked the toy deeper, pumping it into himself and slow strokes, his breath catching when it pressed against his pleasure point. His cock, barely touched, was rock hard already slick with arousal, and a soft moan escaped his lips as he took himself in hand. 

Despite the free morning, he found it impossible to take his time with this like he’d wanted. Everything felt too good, and all he could think about was needing more, faster. He sped the movement of both hands, gasping, feeling almost restless. He’d never needed to come so badly…

Orgasm almost caught him off guard, and he couldn’t help but cry out as he came in hot spurts in his stomach. But when the rush of climax faded he didn’t feel entirely spent, still restless and turned on and hungry. No… Craving.

 _I eat,_ Fionnth said, suddenly awake, and took off from the ledge of the weyr without waiting for his reply.

Dazed, Larry cleaned himself off with his shirt and stumbled through the hangings over his doorway, blinking in the bright morning light and trying to pull his thoughts together. Fionnth didn’t normally take off like that, and she shouldn’t be so hungry. She’d fed the day before the fall….

“L’rence?” S’phia appeared at the mouth of the weyr, her questioning expression changing to a knowing smile as she took in his disheveled bewilderment. “Ah. Some of the males are blooding their kills. I thought it might be for Fionnth. Let me help you into something more… less. Stay with Fionnth, Larry. Don’t let her eat, just blood. Make them work for her.”

It was hard to focus on her words when Fionnth was so strongly in his mind. He felt his dragon’s elation as she brought down one of the herdbeasts, and managed to enforce what S’phia had said. Just blood, my darling.

_But I’m hungry!_

The unbearable ache, the craving he felt was from her, he could feel that now. And it was only getting stronger. You’re not hungry for meat, he reminded her. Just blood. We’ll show those boys what you’re made of.

The blood of Fionnth’s kill sent a rush of heat through him, and suddenly it was hard to think of anything but his dragon. He was vaguely aware of S’phia at his side, that she’d helped him into some kind of robe belted tight around his waist – yes, it had been set aside for this. S’phia’s words were low and her voice was soothing, but he couldn’t focus enough to understand. He was with Fionnth – beautiful, magnificent Fionnth – who sucked the steer dry of such hot blood and threw her head back to cry out a challenge to the males who watched her. Then, with a powerful leap, she launched herself into the cold blue sky.

Flight had never been more exhilarating. Larry could see through her eyes the vast flock of males that followed her, the flash of sunlight off brown and blue hides. Larry was vaguely aware that there were other riders in the weyr with him now, hands that reached to touch him, to try and catch hold of him, but he pushed them away. This was her flight. No one would catch Fionnth until she wanted it.

She felt fresh and strong, all fatigue from yesterday’s Fall gone, and let herself twist and loop through the air in joy of as she flew higher and higher, leaving the males struggling to catch up. Fionnth was fast and could turn on a wingtip – they couldn’t. A few of the blues had already dropped off from pursuit. They wouldn’t catch her!

Then, as she twisted to wing higher, there was a flash of bronze in the sky.

Bronze! For a moment Larry couldn’t think. And another! Bronzes, deigning to fly a weyrling green? He couldn’t process it. But Fionnth already knew what she wanted. 

Turning sharply, his dragon dipped through the air. With a happy bugle, she darted away from the pursuing pack and met up with the first bronze as easily as if they’d practiced the maneuver a hundred times. _Santh!_

Santh! The shock of it left him gasping. He forced his awareness back to the weyr to find Ben’s hands tight on his biceps, urgently pulling him back into his room as his lips hungrily sought out whatever piece of bare skin he could find. He was vaguely aware of S’phia ordering the other riders out, but that wasn’t important. All they needed was Santh, was _Ben_ , and as he met Ben’s questing lips with his own he was certain that the elation that rushed through him was his own, and not Fionnth’s at all.

His fingers grabbed desperately at Ben’s clothes as they reached the bed, still in tune with his dragons ecstasy and aching with the need to match it. He could hear the fabric of Ben’s clothes tear, but he didn’t care, couldn’t care about anything other than his frantic need to get closer to him. He gasped Ben’s name as his friend’s teeth bit into the crook of his neck, only intensifying the need he felt, and let him strip the robe from his body and push him down into bed. The weight of Ben’s body against his was exquisite, and Larry’s hips arched up against him, cock pushing against the length of Ben’s erection where it strained at his pants. Exquisite, but not nearly enough.

“Ben…” He struggled to push the other man’s pants off, so caught in Fionnth’s passion that it _hurt_. “Shards, please - ! Need you!”

“I’ve got you,” Ben murmured, catching his lips again, tongue claiming his mouth as he reached between them to curl his fingers around Larry’s cock. He rocked hard against his hip as he did, his breath in sharp, trembling gasps against his mouth, the fingers of his free hand digging into Larry’s back. “Lar…!”

It wasn’t enough. The stimulation was only a tease, and Larry could hear himself gasping, nearly sobbing from the ache of desire. “More. I need – shards, need you inside me, Ben, please!”

Ben gave a helpless moan against his skin and pulled back, reaching, Larry quickly realized, for the small bottle of oil back that still sat on the shelf beside his bed, though he couldn’t imagine how Ben could think clearly enough to remember it. He pushed Larry to his side and fit himself up against his back, fumbling to slick himself before finally rocking home.

Larry couldn’t hold back the cry that came from his lips, of relief and elation both. He reached back to grab Ben’s hip and pull him closer, sensation singing through him as his body stretched to accommodate the girth of his lover’s cock. This was what he needed, this was what Fionnth was feeling. He didn’t try to silence his pleasure as he quickly fell into rhythm with Ben’s hard thrusts, his cries matching the keening murmurs of pleasure Ben gasped against his skin.

“Feel so good – shards, Lar – mine, needed you so bad – “

Now he could finally let himself go to pleasure, eyes falling closed as he let the multifaceted storm of sensation wash over him. It felt so good, Fionnth felt so good, and when Ben reached one oil slick hand to curl around his cock the pleasure was so intense he couldn’t help but sob. He dug his fingers into Ben’s hip as he pulled him closer, urging more, deeper, never wanting the pleasure to end. But Fionnth and Santh were nearing the end of their flight, and everything was far too intense for him to last much longer.

“Mine,” Ben murmured again, biting a brand into the crook of Larry’s neck as he bucked up into him, and it was all that Larry could take. He cried out helplessly as his passion crested, bright pleasure overwhelming him as he shuddered around Ben’s cock. He felt Ben’s climax follow, heat filling him as his lover bucked deep inside him, voice a harsh cry against his skin.

With Fionnth’s passion sated as well, Larry couldn’t resist the weariness that washed over him. He was vaguely aware of Ben’s arms tightening around him, of his lover pressing warm, reverent feeling kisses to the back of his neck, and then sleep claimed him. 

***

When Larry awoke he was in the same warm embrace, the afternoon sun shining through the curtains over his door in bright fingers of light. Ben was waking as well, shifting against his back as he nuzzled the nape of his neck. A warm wave of happiness washed over him, and Larry stretched leisurely against him, reaching back to stroke a hand over his hip. “Ben…”

“I’m here,” Ben murmured softly, pressing a warm kiss to his shoulder. “You feeling okay?”

Larry let his eyes fall closed again for a moment while he took stock. He ached a little, but it only added to his warm, satiated sense of well-being. He reached a mental query out towards Fionnth, and received a sleepy feeling of satisfaction from her as well.

_We flew well. I’m happy. I’m happy you’re happy._

“Yeah,” Larry said, turning towards Ben and curling into his embrace. “I feel amazing. I… I’m so glad it was you.”

“Me too,” Ben replied, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Larry let himself enjoy their closeness as his mind moved back over what he could remember from Fionnth’s mating flight. He hadn’t in a million turns expected that Santh would rise for Fionnth, or that Ben would want… but what did it mean? He pulled back enough to meet Ben’s gaze with his own, searching his eyes. “I didn’t think Santh would want to fly her. What made you…?”

Ben glanced away, a flicker of emotion moving over his features that Larry couldn’t identify. He was silent for a long moment, then cleared his throat. “Zankath tried to fly her.”

The words hit him like a cold shock. “Zankath? The other bronze was H’dan’s Zankath?”

Ben nodded, chewing on his bottom lip.

“H’dan’s Zankath?” Larry repeated again, unable to process the information. Why on Pern would their Weyrleader – who hadn’t exactly been quiet about his opinions of green riders’ sexual proclivities - set his dragon to fly a weyrling green? “But – “

Ben shook his head. “I don’t know either. Maybe because Tannath’s getting older. Or maybe…” Ben’s voice was leaden. “Maybe he’s just trying to assert power over his Weyr.”

Larry felt his stomach drop down to his toes. Of course Ben would protect him from that. Ben would protect him from anything.

Ben met his gaze again, blue eyes pleading as he slipped a hand up into Larry’s hair. “I couldn’t let him do that,” he said, confirming Larry’s thoughts, and his voice was thick with the deep, hidden anger he felt towards the Weyrleader that Larry had only seen him lose control of a few times in the past. “Zankath flew my mother’s dragon only days after my father and Odinth went _between_. I won’t let H’dan have you, too.”

Larry swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. The thought of Zankath flying Fionnth – the thought of being here like this with _H’dan_ was repulsive, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointment. For a few bright seconds he’d actually thought that Ben was here because he wanted….

He hid his disappointment by burying his face in Ben’s neck, trying to keep his voice even. “Thank you, then. For remembering your promise.”

He heard Ben sigh, his fingers stroking through Larry’s hair slowly, warm against his skin as they trailed down his spine. “Always,” he said softly, and pressed another gentle kiss to his hair.

It felt too good, and part of Larry knew he should tear himself away before the intensity of love he couldn’t deny that he felt for Ben became any stronger. But he knew now that this was all he’d ever have of his friend, and he couldn’t bring himself to end it any sooner than necessary.

He needed to take other lovers, he knew that now. He couldn’t let himself continue to obsess over Ben. It would only end up breaking his heart… and Fionnth’s as well.

***


	3. Chapter 3

In the days that followed Fionnth’s flight, Ben didn’t see much of Larry. When he did, his friend seemed strangely subdued, and Ben couldn’t help but blame himself. He’d seen the hurt in Larry’s expression when he’d told him about Zankath, and he couldn’t help but feel that neither of the bronzes had had any right to be involved in Fionnth’s first flight.

He hadn’t planned on letting Santh fly at first, though he felt his dragon’s desire to. Perhaps part of it was his own desire as well. Larry had always been his best friend, and he’d felt even more protective of him since impressing Fionnth. Why did he have to go and complicate things with sex?

“I’m so glad it was you.” He couldn’t forget how good it felt to hear Larry say that when he’d awoken in his arms. It had been before he’d known about Zankath, so it had to be true, didn’t it? He’d wanted it so badly to be true. It was hard to forget how happy he’d been with him in those few moments upon waking, or how good it had felt when the dragons flew….

But why on Pern was Larry avoiding him now?

He was still mulling it over as he took Santh down to the lake for a bath after a grueling Fall. J’hon had just finished with his bronze, Amanth, and both he and the dragon were strolling leisurely back towards the main caverns, talking and laughing with Ben’s younger brother, Daniel. He gave them all a smile. It wasn’t unusual to see Daniel among the weyrlings and helping with their dragons even when it wasn’t required, and he’d become especially fond of the former Harper apprentice and his bronze. Ben secretly hoped that some of his brother’s sense would rub off on the other bronze rider. He was also certain that Daniel would impress the next time Tannath clutched. Daniel had always been sensitive to dragons, and every weyr they’d fostered in had loved him. He’d make a great rider.

Tannath. That was troubling as well. More than a few of the riders were growing concerned with the increasingly smaller sizes of her clutches, and the fact that they hadn’t had a Queen egg since before Ben’s father had died. Maybe that was why H’dan had Zankath flying green dragons, trying to prove that any issues with virility wasn’t his fault.

His new wingleader, K’ton, was already standing on the beach at the edge of the lake when they reached it, watching his bronze Tolth swim happily, the dragon’s wet hide almost luminescent in the golden light of the setting sun. He gave Ben a smile in greeting as Santh dove into the water. “You two fought well today.”

Ben felt a warm rush of pride. “Thank you, sir. I’m happy to be in your wing.”

“I’m have to have you. You were a good wing leader for the weyrlings. Of your hatching, who else do you think I should recruit?”

“J’hon and Amanth,” Ben replied immediately. “They are good fighters. And… my gut says he’s smarter than he lets on.”

“You think the air-headedness is an act?”

“I think the Harpers trained him well. He was almost finished his apprenticeship when he was searched. I think it would be unwise to underestimate him.”

“Noted. Anyone else?”

“Larry and Fionnth. That’s not just personal bias. They work harder than anyone else from our hatching. Larry’s always been like that.”

K’ton nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not the kind to write off a rider pair just because of the color of a dragon. You’ll be a good wing leader someday, you know. Maybe even weyr leader.”

Ben stared at him, eyebrows knitting together. “I’m not letting Santh fly my mother’s dragon.” 

K’ton laughed, shaking his head. “Tannath won’t always be the senior Queen, B’min. A new Queen will make her own decisions about who is Weyrleader. Mind you, if Tannath doesn’t clutch a gold egg soon we might have to open the leadership to a Queen from another Weyr….”

“If she’d fly someone other than Zankath she might,” Ben said without thinking, and looked quickly to the K’ton, fearful of his reaction. He found his wing leader regarding him thoughtfully.

“Be careful who you say things like that around,” he said, his voice lowering. “H’dan has a lot of supporters.”

“Including you?”

“I support my weyrleader as I should,” K’ton said, his words slow, as if chosen carefully. “But your father’s death was a great loss to High Reaches. I was his wing second for many years. He was a good man. I’m glad to see you following his footsteps.”

The reminder of his father sent a wash of pain through him, followed by anger. “I wish Tolth had flown Tannath after he died,” Ben muttered, scuffing at the sand with his shoe. “H’dan is nothing like my father.”

K’ton nodded slowly, letting out a long breath. “I regret now that we didn’t try for leadership then. It was such a blow when C‘son died that mating was the last thing on my mind, or Tolth’s. Sometimes I think that my greatest failing to C’son was not taking care of Dalia. And Tolth’s getting too old now to compete.”

“Why does she keep letting him win?” The words seemed to explode from his mouth, an accumulation of four years of anger and resentment. “If she ever loved father – “

“Hush.” K’ton’s sharp order cut him off. Then he stepped closer, his voice low. “B’min, if you learn nothing else from me, _please_ heed this. Don’t speak ill of H’dan where others can hear. He’s more powerful than you think, and he has no qualms about manipulating a grieving widow to keep himself in power. Don’t make yourself a bigger target to him than you already are as C’son’s son. You’re in my wing now, so I can protect you to an extent, but he’s still the Weyrleader.”

Ben stared at him. He knew H’dan had always been one of the boldest, most opinionated bronze riders, even when he was young. And it was easy to see how much he valued the position of Weyrleader. Was he really that dangerous? “Is that why Zankath has been trying to fly so many greens, then? To make H’dan seem more powerful?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps so Tannath will continue to let him catch her. But maybe if we keep our heads down and let H’dan believe his leadership is strong we’ll be in a better place to upset things when we have a new Queen.”

“It’s hard to sit back and do nothing,” Ben muttered, though he knew K’ton was right. “He tried to fly my weyrbrother’s dragon.”

K’ton nodded in acknowledgment, but seemed relieved to take the conversation in another direction. “I’d heard Santh flew Fionnth. His first flight, yes? How was that for you?”

Ben tried to ignore the shiver that ran through him from the memories of the flight. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, he wanted to say. Instead he forced himself to remain nonchalant. “It was as expected.”

“That’s not what I heard.” Rubin – R’bin, now, had been swimming with his brown dragon some ways away. They sloshed out of the shallows, and Ben tried to ignore the sneer the other rider gave him. “I figured you’d end up a pervy green fancier, B’min.”

Ben fought down a surge of anger. “Meaning?”

“Oh, no offence meant, nothing wrong with it,” R’bin replied, with the lilt to his voice that meant the complete opposite. “Plenty of girls around the weyr to reassert one’s masculinity with afterwards. I bet you’ve been with your healer girl every night since, yeah?”

He hadn’t seen Amy since the flight. It didn’t seem right, not when he didn’t know where he stood with Larry. “Haven’t had a chance. Things have been busy.”

R’bin snorted. “Well, they’ve certainly been busy for your weyrbrother.”

Ben looked at him sharply. “If you’re insinuating - ”

“Not insinuating. He’s been in and out of L’ster’s weyr, next to mine, for the past three nights. Ruleth says it sounds so good that we should fly Fionnth next time.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Ben snapped before he could stop himself, but R’bin just laughed.

“Don’t think you can stake your claim on that one, B’min. He’s as randy as they come.”

Ben grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him closer. “Take that back! And don’t even think about going near him!”

R’bin sneered, but feigned agreement, holding up both hands. “I don’t think it’s me you need to worry about. It’s everyone else that’s plowing him. ”

“Enough!” K’ton grabbed the back of R’bin’s jacket to haul him back. “B’min, my riders behave better than this. And R’bin, I will go to your wing leader if you antagonize mine. Behave yourselves, be respectful.”

“Sorry.” Releasing the other rider, Ben looked out towards Santh where he swam, thinking his inquiry towards his dragon. _Has Larry been sleeping with Rexenth’s rider?_

 _Fionnth says it makes him less sad,_ came the reply, and Ben’s heart sank.

I’ll be back soon, he thought towards Santh, and muttered a farewell to K’ton. Then he started for the weyr, leaving R’bin and his ridiculous opinions to himself.

When he reached the weyr, he found Larry leaving his bedroom, bags of his things slung over his shoulder. His friend froze as he saw Ben, then slowly lowered the bags to the ground. ”… Hey.”

“Hey.” Ben glanced to the bags and wet his lips. “You going somewhere?”

Larry looked even more uncomfortable, not quite meeting Ben’s gaze. “There’s a small weyr up by the rim, by S’phia’s. Fionnth and I are going to move in. I was going to tell you, I just… haven’t really seen you around.”

Because you haven’t been here, Ben resisted the urge to say. What came out wasn’t much better. “Because you’ve been sleeping with L’ster?”

He watched Larry pale, then flush dark, and his voice trembled when he replied. “I really don’t think that’s any of your business. Just because Santh flew Fionnth doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.”

Ben immediately regretted his words, but the confirmation that there was nothing between them beyond Fionnth’s flight hurt more. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just - I don’t want things to be weird between us, Lar. You’re my best friend… I hope.”

Larry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and for a moment Ben was afraid he’d just made him were angry. Then his friend give him a small smile. “You are. I’m sorry, Ben. It’s just been a really long week. It’ll be easier to get my head back on straight once Fionnth and I are in our own weyr. You know we’re too big for this place now, anyway.”

Ben couldn’t help but wonder what bedding L’ster had to do with getting his head back on straight, but he bit his tongue. “Can we go for a fly once you’re settled?”

Larry nodded, then stepped forward to pull him into his arms. “I’d like that,” he replied softly, holding tight for a moment that was over far too quickly for Ben’s liking. “Thanks, Ben. For everything.”

Ben nodded, and watched him pick up the bags again, heading to strap them onto Fionnth’s back. The thought of Larry leaving hurt worse than he could have imagined. But it was what Larry wanted.

 _You’re sad? Why is Fionnth leaving?_ Santh sounded as distraught as Ben felt, but he couldn’t summon the will to reassure his dragon.

I’m going to see Amy, he thought in reply, waiting for Fionnth to launch herself from the ledge before leaving the weyr. He couldn’t stay there anymore. Not with Larry gone.

***

Larry still felt guilty about not telling Ben the real reason why he’d left. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t put Ben in the position of having to know about his desire for him when that desire wasn’t returned. And things did get easier for him to cope with it, in the months after they’d moved to their own weyr. They had their own space, and became part of a real fighting wing, and sometimes he was too busy to think about Ben at all. It wasn’t that he wanted Ben any less, but it was easier when he could lose himself in making love with other riders without worrying what Ben thought of him, or thinking about the women that must be in Ben’s bed. It was easier to act like things were the same as they’d been before Fionnth had flown.

“I hate having the weyr halfway up the bowl,” Ben grumbled as he wandered to the dining cavern early one morning, sitting down at Larry’s table with a sweet roll and cup of klah. “Too many farding stairs.”

Larry chuckled swallowing a mouthful of oat porridge. “What, Santh won’t fly you down?”

“He’s grumpy this morning. Says the exercise is good for me.”

“Ungrateful wretch,” Larry agreed good-naturedly. He watched his friend for a few moments as he picked at his roll. “So… I suppose he’ll have to agree to help Amy up there, at least?”

Ben looked up sharply, suddenly alert. “What you talking about?”

Larry tried to keep his voice light. “She was noticeably much rounder last time I saw her, Ben. Are you saying it’s not yours?”

Ben glanced away. Larry had expected that he’d be happy about the situation, but from his friend’s frown, it appeared to be the opposite. “She says it is. But she’s not going to be my weyrmate, I told her that in the beginning.”

“And she thought a child would change that? Dragonriders don’t raise their own children.”

“I know. I offered to take her for a quick ride _between_ if she wanted, but apparently that was the wrong thing to say. We haven’t spoken for a couple weeks. I don’t think she’d move in now, even if I wanted her to.”

Ben smile was rueful and easy now, so Larry let himself chuckle. The realization that his friend wasn’t as serious about the young healer apprentice has Larry had thought made him happier than he’d anticipated. “Well, I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’ll happily fall victim to your charms.”

Instead of replying, Ben went stock still, then swore under his breath, getting to his feet. “The bronzes are blooding their kills. Scorch it, I have to take Santh to Ista!”

Larry stood as well. “What?”

Ben was already striding towards the hall. “Tannath’s rising. I won’t make Santh watch that, and I won’t let him try and fly my mother’s dragon! I’ll see you later,” he said, and was gone, breaking into a run as he left the cavern.

Finishing the remains of his porridge, Larry left the lower caverns more leisurely, meeting Fionnth at the bottom of the bowl. Once he’d climbed onto her neck she jumped skyward, winging her way to the ledge outside their new weyr. They sat together there and watched Tannanth kill and drain three herdbeasts of their blood before launching herself into flight, with what looked like every bronze in the weyr in pursuit.

 _Why does Tannath’s flight make you sad?_ Fionnth asked, concerned, and Larry forced a smile, reaching out to scratch her eye ridge affectionately.

“A lot of people are worried about this flight,” he told her. “If Tannath doesn’t lay a queen, we might have to get one from another weyr. The pass is almost over. There aren’t as many Queens as there once were.”

Fionnth followed the distant flight of dragons with the gaze of her whirling, blue-green eyes. _Tannath doesn’t love of any of the bronzes. Dalia is unhappy. She won’t fly as well as we did._

Larry felt his stomach twist at the reminder of her last flight. “Do you think you’ll fly again soon, love?” It was no use asking her when; a dragon’s concept of time was only measured by the cues her rider gave her. But he knew that young greens could rise as frequently as every six months, and that wasn’t far off.

_Not soon. That makes you sad?_

“No…” He sighed, letting his head fall back against her side as he looked up into the sky. “I don’t want you to fly Santh again.”

Fionnth’s hurt hit him immediately, purple whirling into the her normally blue-green eyes. _But I like Santh! He likes me. We fly well together!_

“I know. It’s just… it makes me sad.”

_Why does it make you sad? You like Santh, too._

“It’s complicated.” He sighed, reaching out to stroke the back of her neck as she laid her head down on the cool stone. “Rexenth will fly for you next time. You like him, don’t you? He’s one of the biggest browns in the weyr. And Yarth. You like him, too.”

 _Not as much as Santh,_ came the mournful reply.

“I know. I’m sorry, Fionnth. I just can’t – “ his breath caught, and he swallowed hard. “I can’t go through that again.”

 _I don’t want to make you sad,_ Fionnth replied, moving her head to nuzzle his shoulder soothingly. _I’m sorry. I’ll do as you ask. Don’t be sad._ Still, Larry knew it wouldn’t be easy on her. There was only one way to be sure that Santh wouldn’t fly her, and as much as the thought of it made him feel faintly ill, he knew he was going to have to buckle down and do it.

Though he knew most of the weyr’s inhabitants would be seeking their own sexual release after a Queen’s flight, Larry stayed with Fionnth outside their weyr until well after Tannath’s flight was over, oiling her hide and dutifully checking the minor scorching she’d received during the last Fall they’d flown, which was healing well. Eventually he saw Sath appear from _between_ in the air above High Reaches, winging down to land on the ledge to the weyr he now shared with Ben. Leaving Fionnth asleep, he started down towards them.

Ben was rubbing oil into Santh’s hide when he finally reached them, the bronze dragon’s eyes half closed in pleasure. He looked up as Larry and the stairs, nodding. “I hear H’dan is still weyr leader.”

“He’s good enough at fighting Fall,” Larry remarked with a shrug, perching on the rock of the side of the ledge. He wasn’t particularly fond of H’dan either, but they both knew that he had too many supporters to be shaken from power so easily. “How was Ista?”

“Warm. Too warm. I’ve re-acclimatized to High Reaches.” He turned to Larry, leaning back against Santh’s side as he regarded him for a moment. “Fionnth could fly again soon, couldn’t she?”

Larry shrugged, thankful that he brought it up and trying to will away the nervousness that churned in the base of his stomach. “In a month or two, maybe. Look, Ben… I need to ask you a favor.”

“Yeah?” Ben was suddenly still, guarded, which was all that Larry needed to reassure him about his decision.

He steeled his nerves and met Ben’s gaze. ”With Fionnth rises, I want you to take Santh to Ista again.”

He heard Ben draw a sharp breath through his nose, and his lips tightened, an expression Larry was all too familiar with when his friend felt discomfort. It took him a moment to reply. “Are you sure?”

Larry nodded, trying to ignore that Santh’s gaze was now on him as well, whirling with flecks of yellow. “We’ll be fine this time. H’dan’s reestablished his claim, I doubt he’ll be flying greens for a while. And we have a few friends will fly for Fionnth.”

Ben looked away, though the tension in the shoulders didn’t lessen. He was quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Okay. Sure. If that’s what you want.”

“I think that’s what will be easiest,” Larry replied, standing. “Thanks.”

Ben nodded slowly, not quite meeting his gaze. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

I won’t put you through that, Larry thought, but nodded and turned back for his own weyr. He done what he needed to do. Still, knowing that Santh and Ben were out of the picture didn’t reassure him as much as he’d hoped it would, and it certainly didn’t lessen the ache of longing in his heart

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arg, Things got plotty. And angsty. And then I gave myself sad Dragon feels!!! ;__;


	4. Chapter 4

Ben couldn’t imagine how his day could possibly get any worse. It was bad enough having to take Santh away from the Weyr, _his_ Weyr, knowing that _deadglow_ was going to fly Tannath again. When he finally returned, all he wanted to do was lose himself to an afternoon with his dragon and not think about friends or fighting or dragons mating. Then Larry had come to his weyr. Larry, who still made his heart ache every time he saw him, and it felt like his friend’s request had ripped what was left of his broken heart to shreds.

 _I don’t understand,_ Santh sent mournfully as they watched Larry leave their weyr. _I like Fionnth. We fly well together. Why wouldn’t he want that?_

“Because we never should’ve gotten involved in the first place,” Ben replied, pacing back into the weyr and trying to remember how to breathe. “I knew it was something like this. We weren’t invited when Fionnth flew, I never asked him - might as well have called it rape – “

 _He was happy!_ Santh replied sharply, the hurt in his eyes changing to a whirl of red. _There were no invitations, mating doesn’t work like that. We flew. Fionnth chose us. Dragons decide. Riders comply. We did nothing wrong._

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way!” Ben stopped, and forced himself to take a slow breath. “It doesn’t matter. His request was perfectly clear. I won’t go against that.”

 _I still don’t like it,_ Santh grumbled, tail switching back and forth restlessly, and Ben knew that his hopes for a quiet afternoon had been dashed.

He moved back to his dragon, reaching out to scratch his eye ridge in an effort to calm them both down, then stopped. “No. Scorch being calm. Are you hungry?”

Santh understood the real inquiry immediately. _We could go hunt together? That would feel good._

Ben pulled on his riding leathers and seated himself up between Santh’s neck ridges, immediately feeling better as Santh launched himself skyward. He pictured in his mind a certain high mountain valley on the way to Nabol that he knew was a favorite of wild wherries, and sent Santh the command to go _between_.

Watching Santh hunt and sharing in the vicious elation of the kill was almost enough to forget his earlier troubles. His bronze easily took down three fat wherries, then ate them leisurely as the afternoon sun slowly sank behind the mountains. It was almost dusk when the call came.

 _Tolth says we are needed at home,_ Santh sent, daintily licking a stray spot of blood off the back of one of his forelimbs. _K’ton wants you to meet him at the Council chamber immediately._

The Council chamber? Ben climbed onto his dragon, holding tight as he took to the air. He couldn’t imagine why his wing leader would want to see him, and Fall wasn’t scheduled for another three days….

Santh let him off at the bottom of the bowl, then took off to go back to their weyr. Still in his flying leathers, Ben made his way towards the Council chamber, finding K’ton waiting for him halfway down the hallway. “Is everything okay?”

K’ton nodded. “The wing leaders and seconds always meet after the senior Queen flies. You’re coming with me. Just keep your ears open and follow my lead.”

Ben still wasn’t entirely sure why K’ton had asked for him, but he nodded and followed him into the Council chamber, where a few riders had already gathered. H’dan was among them, and he stood as they entered, crossing the room to shake K’ton’s hand. “Good flight,” he said, and it almost sounded sincere. Then he looked to Ben. “And you’ve brought young B’min with you? K’ton speaks highly of your fighting abilities.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ben replied. “Congratulations on the successful flight.”

“We flew well,” H’dan said, with pleasure evident in his voice. “You haven’t flown a Queen flight before, have you? It’s quite the experience. I’m sure you were able to seek solace afterward from that little green rider you’re so fond of. What was his name… L’ren?”

“L’rence,” Ben corrected, careful not to let his irritation show in his voice. “And no, Santh didn’t fly. When the bronzes started blooding their kills, we went to Ista.”

H’dan stared at him. “You took your bronze out of the weyr before a Queen flight? And he _listened to you_?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t he?”

H’dan was still staring at him like he’d grown a second head, and K’ton tugged at Ben’s elbow. “We’ll let you get started with the meeting, Weyrleader,” he said, pulling Ben over to a pair of empty chairs near the end of the large wooden conference table. Ben was sure he heard K’ton curse softly under his breath as they left.

Once the meeting started, Ben stopped wondering about H’dan’s reaction and just tried to take it all in. Each of the wing leaders reported in turn on the status of the dragons in their wing, on the results of their training drills, on which pairs were out injured and how soon they could be expected to return to fighting strength. He’d given similar reports to M’ran when he’d led the weyrling’s wing, but that had been much easier. He’d never had more than 18 rider pairs flying with him, and they’d rarely had an injury severe enough to keep a pair away from fighting more than one or two Falls. M’ran reported on the remainder of the weyrling wing, information he must’ve gotten from J’hon, including the dates when two more of the riders would be old enough to join a full fighting wing. Ben listened, fascinated to be seeing more of the big picture.

When it came to K’ton, his wing leader cleared his throat. “S’ton’s Cobath is still in rough shape from his injury last fall. It’ll be months before his primary wingsail is healed enough to see if it can even still support flight. Taking into account the age of his dragon, S’ton has requested permission to step down as my wing second, and take an early retirement. I’d like to move for the wing leaders to approve B’min as his replacement. He successfully led the Weyrling wing for a year and a half, which was our first hatching this pass with zero casualties. He’s flown very strong with me since then.”

H’dan shook his head immediately. “You have older bronzes in your wing. He’s too young. I won’t support this.”

“We passed a motion three councils ago to focus on training younger riders,” K’ton countered.

H’dan’s face flushed. “Not this young! He’s barely in his seventeenth turn. His bronze wasn’t even mature enough to compete for Tannath today.”

K’ton’s request had left Ben stunned, but he found his voice again at H’dan’s false accusation. “Santh is mature! He flew green Fionnth in the spring. I took him to Ista when Tannath rose this morning as I had no desire to compete for my mother’s dragon!”

He heard someone draw a sharp breath, and a couple of the wing leaders turned to murmur with the riders next to them. H’dan’s face went even darker purple. K’ton glanced to Ben, flashing a small, approving smile before speaking again. “As you can see, wing leaders, he _is_ my strongest candidate.”

“I won’t support this!” H’dan insisted, but the wing leader to his left – M’cho, Ben recognized - shook his head.

“K’ton’s reasoning is sound. If his performance proves subpar, we can move to replace him at a later date. I second the motion. Wing leaders - all in favor by show of hands.”

To Ben’s astonishment, every wing leader raised their hand apart from H’dan.

“Passed.” M’cho noted. “Congratulations, B’min.”

“Thank you,” Ben managed to reply, and the meeting continued.

He held his questions until the meeting was over, and he and K’ton were halfway across the bowl and well out of hearing of the Weyrleader and other wing leaders. “How was I just approved without H’dan’s support?”

K’ton looked more pleased with himself when Ben had ever seen before. “Seconds are the direct responsibility of their wing leader, they don’t report to H’dan. I only needed the support of the wing leaders. It’s a safety, it allows the wing leaders some autonomy in case a Weyrleader’s leadership proves… less than adequate.” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulders. “You played it better than I thought you could, reminding them of your parentage and showing your control over Santh. Did you really take him to Ista?”

“Is that really such a weird thing?” Ben asked in reply, and K’ton gave a low hum.

“It’s certainly unusual. Especially for a young bronze in a Queen’s flight. It worked to our advantage.” He chuckled. “H’dan was furious.”

“I thought you told me not to make him mad.”

“That was then. Now…” He stopped, turning to face him, expression serious. “Now perhaps it’s time to slowly begin to turn the tide. We’ll have a new queen soon, whether Tannath lays a gold or not. And those who do not support H’dan will need to show her rider that H’dan is not the strongest rider in the Weyr.”

Ben could hardly believe the words he was hearing, but he quickly realized the wisdom in what K’ton had accomplished tonight. “And placing C‘son’s son as a strong wing second is a very strong symbol.” He stopped, turning towards his wing leader to meet his gaze seriously. “Are there really enough riders who don’t support H’dan for us to succeed? He’s a good fighter – “

“He is,” K’ton agreed, “but there are things… it’s better that I don’t tell you until you need to know. We’ll be going into an interval soon, and in an interval even a young queen can go as long as a decade between flights. H’dan cannot be allowed to hold control of High Reaches when thread stops falling.”

Ben regarded him for a long moment, realizing for the first time that this went far beyond his personal dislike of the man who replaced his father. But he knew more than enough to make his decision. He directed a thought towards his dragon. Santh? Are you with me?

_Zankath is a bully, and tried to take my Fionnth. Of course I’m with you._

Ben nodded, then held out a hand. “Wing leader, if it means toppling H’dan, Santh and I will do anything you ask. I swear this to you by Faranth’s first egg.”

K’ton smiled, taking his hand in a firm clasp. “I never had any doubt that you would.”

***

When Ben came to him with the news of being made their new wing second, Larry was surprised, but happy for him. It was a relief to be able to talk weyr business with his friend, instead of dwelling on the unpleasant conversation they’d had that afternoon. He listened quietly to everything Ben had to say about H’dan and the need to find a new weyr leader, and nodded. “You know I’m with you. Things have been harder for mother since he took over. I think she might suspect something, too, but she clams up when I try to ask her about it. I don’t know if there is anything I can do, but Fionnth and I are with you.”

“I don’t even know what I can do right now,” Ben replied, shaking his head. “Other than try to be the best wing second I can, I guess. You’re already a good rider. Just… don’t let Zankath fly Fionnth.”

“She’s far too fast for that huge old beast,” Larry promised, certain that it was impossible.

When Fionnth started showing signs of going back into heat months later, however, he didn’t feel so sure anymore.

He woke one morning to Ben’s hand on his shoulder, urging him awake. His friend’s voice was low and hard. “Lar, wake up. Zankath and some of the others are blooding their kills. Is it for Fionnth?”

Larry took a deep breath and pushed back the rush of desire he felt, the need to pull Ben down into bed with him. “Yes. Please go.”

“But Zankath – “

“We’ll be fine,” Larry forced himself to say, trying to convince himself to believe it as well. He had to. He couldn’t take Ben to bed again, and surely there was no way Fionnth would let H’dan’s dragon get anywhere near her. “Please, Ben.”

He watched Ben’s lips shift against each other in what he knew was barely contained anger. “All right. We’ll be at Ista. Call if you change your mind.” He strode towards the mouth of the weyr and climbed up onto his bronze, who cast a longing look at the sleeping Fionnth before obediently launching himself skyward and going _between_.

The pull of desire and hunger he could feel from Fionnth wasn’t any less strong than it had been the last time, but it felt a little easier, knowing what to expect. He tried to remain calm while Fionnth still slept, changing into the robe he’d worn last time and finding the bottle of oil, working himself open. It was hard not think about Ben, and part of him regretted being so firm in his decision to send Santh away.

S’phia once again appeared at the mouth of his weyr, this time before Fionnth awakened. Relief washed through him, and he moved to embrace her. “How did you know how much I needed you?”

“Older greens can tell when a younger is ready to rise,” she replied with a smile. “Green riders take care of each other.”

Larry well remembered being herded out of S’phia’s weyr by one of green riders – usually D’nim - whenever Jezzanth had risen to mate. “I appreciate it. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this.”

“It didn’t go so badly last time,” S’phia reminded. “Do you think she’ll let Santh fly her again?”

“I sent Santh away,” Larry said before he could stop himself, his voice breaking. “Shells, S’phia. I - I’m scared.”

She gave a little soothing hum and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him towards his sleeping dragon. “You know you have nothing to be afraid of, youngling. You and Fionnth will be fine.”

“I just don’t know why Zankath insists on flying for her.” His words came out in a plaintive moan. “Tannath’s due to clutch any day now, H’dan’s status as Weyrleader is secure. And I’m just one junior green rider!”

“But you’re important to Ben,” S’phia said softly. Her smile seemed sad as she took a step back. “Go ahead and wake her. We’ll go down to one of the mating weyrs at the bottom of the bowl, so that all her suitors’ riders can find you.”

“I’d rather hide,” Larry replied, though he knew that an attempt to do so would end up far worse than the alternative. He stroked a hand over Fionnth’s neck, nudging her mentally. Wake up, love. It’s time to fly.

Her hunger consumed him immediately, and he wasn’t quite sure how S’phia managed to get them both onto Fionnth and down into the bowl. He tried to keep from feeling panicked as he focused on his dragon, staying with her as she took down a steer and sucked it dry. Just blood, he pressed. You need to be fast, love. Today more than ever.

 _I’ll fly my fastest for you,_ she promised, flinging herself on a second steer and letting the rich heat of its blood fill her with energy. _I fly!_

With a powerful spring, his dragon leapt into the air, soaring skyward as a flurry of males launched themselves to give chase. But Fionnth felt none of the joy and power she’d felt the first time she’d flown. Larry tried to see through her eyes, to look for the blues and browns they knew, but all he could feel was anxiety.

_This isn’t what I wanted!_

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, feeling her jolt of terror as she barely evaded a brown dragon’s grab for her. Wheeling away put her directly in the path of a bronze – was it Zankath? - and in panic, Fionnth jerked her wings into her body to avoid him, falling like a stone through the air and hurtling towards the jagged spires of High Reaches. 

_No!_

“Fly!” He yelled at her in panic, and her wings snapped out just in time to carry her away from the mountain tops, past the dragons who had dived after her. As she regained altitude Larry tried again to identify someone among their pursuers to urge his dragon to choose. Anyone but Zankath! But Fionnth’s anguish was overwhelming.

_Santh! Santh!!_

“Santh!” Larry realized he was gasping along with his dragon’s piteous cries. “I’m sorry, Fionnth!”

_Santh!!_

_Don’t cry. I come._

The low voice that touched his mind was warm and caring and definitely not Fionnth’s, and instantly his panic abated. Moments later, a bronze dragon burst from _between_ ahead of her, twisting in midair to catch her safely. His body was nearly frigid from _between_ , painfully cold against her heated flesh, but it was all right. She was safe. He came.

“I’m here. It’s okay, Lar, I’m here.” Ben’s breathless voice brought his awareness back to the weyr, and Larry caught hold of him, sobbing in relief as their lips met. He could feel the weyr break into noise and chaos around him, but Ben pulled him back into the sleeping room, and everything else quickly melted away. The kisses Ben pressed to his skin felt like they were seared into it, and he pulled off Larry’s robe and pushed him back onto the bed. The feel of his body and the security of his weight over top of him was more perfect than he’d remembered. Shards, why had he ever tried to prevent this?

“Ben,” he gasped, choking on his name, yanking desperately at the fabric that separated them until his hands could touch flesh. “Ben, please – !”

“Mine,” his lover growled, breath hot against his skin as his mouth sealed to his neck, his teeth a hot brand of intensity when he bit down. “Mine, always mine, only mine!”

“Yes! I’m yours. Always yours, Ben!” Shards, but it felt good to say it! He didn’t even care whether or not it was Ben speaking, or Santh. His reply was the same, and for this moment, with Fionnth’s joy singing through his body, he could let himself believe that Ben’s words were real.

Somehow in their frantic passion, Ben had managed to strip off the rest of his clothes. He grabbed for the oil to slick himself, spilling half of it on the bed as he did. Then, instead of pushing him into the mattress, he pulled Larry’s thighs up around his waist, pressing close and claiming his mouth again as he pushed inside him.

Fionnth bugled happily, and her pleasure combined with his own was so overwhelming that he could hardly tell which way was up. But Ben’s kisses anchored him back in the weyr, warm and deep and tender as they moved together, his lover gasping his name against his mouth between kisses. Larry found himself rocking into the thrust of Ben’s hips, heels pressed into his back to urge him deeper, his fingers grabbing and scratching at his back in an effort to get closer, closer, shards, never close enough!

Ben’s face fell to the crook of his neck as he shifted position, rocking deeper into him, each thrust driving a white hot spark of pleasure through him. In moments he was coming apart, crying out as he spent himself between them, and for that moment of overwhelming ecstasy he felt entirely complete.

He continued to cling to Ben as he came down, letting his mind slowly calm. He was aware of Santh and Fionnth returning to High Reaches and landing on the ledge outside his weyr to curl up together, but he forced himself to push away the fatigue that came with it. “Ben…!”

“I’m here.” His lover pressed breathless kisses to his forehead as he spoke, to his eyelids, nose and lips. “Shards, Lar, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Larry caught his face in his hands and forced him to still, claiming his mouth for a trembling kiss and trying to swallow down the sob that knotted in his throat. “It’s okay,” he managed, gasping. “I wanted you here. I wanted you. I’m so sorry I sent Santh away!”

“I don’t want this just to be about dragons!” Ben broke from his kisses, a wild desperation in his eyes as he looked down at him. “I know you don’t want me, but please promise me you won’t send us away again. At least let me have this!”

For a moment, Larry felt like he couldn’t understand what he was hearing. He stared up at Ben as he replayed the words in his mind, moving one hand to tentatively touch the side of his face. “You… want me?”

Ben laughed, harsh and helpless, closing his eyes and turning his face to press a kiss to Larry’s palm. “I want you so bad, Lar. I’m sorry.”

Larry drew a sharp breath and tried to speak, but barely managed a shivering gasp. “….Ben!”

Ben dropped his lips to his forehead again, pressing a kiss to his temple before nuzzling his ear. “It’s okay. Nothing will change, I’ll still be here for you, whatever you need. I don’t care who you choose to go to bed with, just let me have this and I’ll give you all of me. I promise. By the egg, Lar, I love you so much – !“

With a broken sob, Larry finally managed to find his voice. “I only want you! I’ve always wanted you! You, Ben! Not Santh, you!”

Ben gave an incredulous moan, shuddering against him as he claimed his mouth again, then pressing breathless, laughing kisses over what felt like every inch of his face. “Yes. Shards, yes love, you have me, all of me. Yours forever, love you so much, Lar!”

Larry closed his eyes and let his breath echo Ben’s laughter - or perhaps he was sobbing? It didn’t matter. Only Ben mattered.

They shifted to curl together in bed as they slowly calmed, trading slow, languid kisses and gentle touch. Finally Larry nestled his face into the blonde spikes of Ben’s hair and let out a long breath. “I don’t know how you got back here in time, but thank you.”

Ben chuckled softly, breath warm against his neck. “It was Santh. He wouldn’t land when we arrived at Ista, it’s the first time ever that he hasn’t obeyed me. We fought about it for what felt like ages. Then he said you were calling for him, went _between_ here to drop me off, and then went after her.”

I will find you the fattest, juiciest wherries to eat and give you all scratches you want, Larry thought towards Fionnth. Both of you.

 _Nothing could make me happier than I am right now,_ his dragon replied sleepily, and though he might have imagined it, he thought he felt a brush of the same warm presence he’d heard when Santh had come to claim her.

“You can’t come in here.” S’phia’s voice could suddenly be heard, loud and clear outside the weyr, as well as the one that answered her.

“H’dan wants to see B’min. Stand aside, green rider.”

“He just flew! If you think there’s any way I’m letting you in there - “

“Scorch it. I bet he’s _pissed_.” Ben pulled back with a low growl, and Larry thought that H’dan couldn’t possibly be as pissed as his lover looked at being disturbed. 

He sat up as well, trying to look around for Ben’s clothes. “H’dan has no right to be angry with you. I’m coming with you.”

Ben’s face softened immediately. “I don’t want you to – “

Larry pulled him close for a kiss. “I’m coming. I’ll go help S’phia stall. Find your clothes.”

His legs felt like jelly when he stood, but Larry pulled his robe off the floor and slipped it on, tying it around his waist as he walked out to join S’phia. “I’m sorry, is something wrong?”

He didn’t remember the names of the two riders who stood there, but he knew that they were among those who Didn’t Consort with green riders. “Several riders have complained to the weyr leader about the outcome of your dragon’s flight, L’rence. H’dan wants to see B’min immediately. Stand aside.”

Outside in the bowl, a bronze dragon landed, and Larry was relieved to see K’ton slide down from his back. “Gentlemen! I believe both the young riders involved in this flight are members of my wing. I will handle this.”

The first rider shook his head. “This is weyr business, K’ton, not wing. Unless you want to take it up with H’dan?”

Ben’s voice came from the bedroom, surprisingly calm and authoritative. “Unless H’dan wants to see me half-dressed and covered in sex, I’ll need to go back to my weyr.” He emerged wearing only his pants, which were almost completely rent down one side. He used one hand to hold them up out of necessity. He’d made no efforts to hide his dishevelment, and his shoulders were marked with passionate looking red scratches from Larry’s nails.

Larry could see S’phia’s shoulders shaking silently, and K’ton’s lips twitched as he held back a grin. His wing leader cleared his throat. “You can tell H’dan and I’ll bring both riders to him in half a candlemark. You have my word as a wing leader.”

“You’d better,” the first said, though he took a step back as he did. Then both men turned and almost bolted from the weyr.

S’phia let out a near shriek of laughter, holding her sides. “Their faces! Ben, you rascal! “

Ben shrugged, grinning. “They were the ones that were insisting on interrupting. They should be glad they didn’t get more of an eye full.” He reached out with his free hand to pull Larry to him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his mouth. “Can S’phia take you back to your weyr? Meet at mine once we’re dressed? I promise I’ll wait for you.”

The last thing he wanted to do was leave Ben, even for an instant, but he nodded, pulling away and following S’phia outside. Jazzanth landed nearby, patient as Larry climbed aboard gingerly behind S’phia, then taking flight.

“You should have seen him run in there for you,” S’phia said, glancing back at him with an expression that seemed almost dreamy. “It was quite heroic. Santh didn’t even land, he just swooped down low enough for Ben to slide off. It’s a miracle he didn’t break a leg. But he was in here in seconds, shoving people aside just to get to you.” 

There was just enough room for Jazzanth to land on the ledge next to the curled up sleeping mass of Santh/Fionnth, and Larry slid off, smiling up at her. “He’s amazing,” he agreed, then hurried inside.

Half a candlemark wasn’t nearly as long as he wanted to be able to take to clean up, but it was enough to get himself presentable. S’phia dropped him at Ben’s weyr, where K’ton and Tolth were waiting for them, the bronze dragon taking the three of them up to the Weyrleader’s quarters.

Inside, H’dan was breathless and nearly purple with fury, pacing back and forth across the weyr. He jabbed a finger towards Ben. “You! You let your dragon cheat and go _between_ in a mating flight!”

“It was my fault, Weyrleader,” Larry said quickly. “I couldn’t control my dragon. She told Santh where to find her. We meant no disrespect to any of the riders or dragons who honored us with their participation this morning. I’m sorry.”

Ben had opened his mouth to interrupt, but stopped, quickly nodding agreement. “I also meant no disrespect, H’dan. In apology, I’ll make sure Santh is not involved in any other flights this quarter.”

H’dan took an abrupt step back, sails deflated from their immediate apologies. He glared at the both of them for a moment. “He still cheated. There will be consequences.”

K’ton sighed from where he still stood at the mouth of the weyr. “You can’t exactly undo the results of the flight, H’dan. Let it be. Besides, I don’t believe anyone’s told the dragons that they now have rules about how they have to mate. It’s simply not common that going _between_ provides any advantage in a flight. I’ll teach my riders to better control their dragons.”

“It’s not a matter of teaching – “

K’ton cut him off. “Dragons decide. Riders comply. She didn’t want you, H’dan!”

Larry drew a sharp breath, certain K’ton had pushed the Weyrleader too far. But before H’dan could reply, they were interrupted by a flurry of wings as M’ran’s brown landed next to Tolth outside. M’ran slid off, breathless, and Larry realized that H’dan was about to have far more important things to think about than who Fionnth choose to mate with.

“Tannath’s started clutching! She’s laid a gold!”

\- End Part 1 –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 in progress. God, I just wanted to write angsty dragonrider sex and then all this plot happened, wtf??
> 
> Thoughts, Comments & Feedback are always love :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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